A blank canvas. Starting fresh. A new beginning. Zen sounding, isn’t it? A sense of untapped potential is hiding there. Anything could happen. Everything could happen. You can be whoever you want to be.
“It’s really brave of you, moving across the country like that, to completely new states,” people say, when I tell them my story. I explain my launch away from everything and everyone I’d ever known, landing in Montana and then Washington State, and now here in Portland, Oregon.
“Yeah, you know what, I do feel brave. It really took a lot,” has been my usual reply. Moving is hard, and to new state is even harder. It’s expensive, stressful, intimidating, and at times lonely, when you’re doing it all by yourself. It takes hours of research and planning if you’re on a tight budget and don’t want to end up completely broke.
There is this notion that I have always held that traveling is a sign of freedom. Given the prevalence of #vanlife #wanderlust #passionpassport movements, I’m not alone in my thinking. Freedom equals mobility and true happiness comes from experiencing and exploring the world to the fullest extent, right?
Four states in four years. I am exhausted, but proud of myself for being so brave, for my fearlessness in the face of the unknown and for my determination to do it alone. That’s how I always thought about my need for change and new places, until recently.
Lately, I’ve begun to question the notion that this pattern-- this habit of uprooting and leaving behind, whether it’s bravery or actually the very opposite.
clean slate
noun; an absence of existing restraints or commitments.
My first move gave me space to redefine myself, for myself, after a pretty destructive, painful period of my life. Putting physical distance between myself and the past actually did truly help me mentally rework and break free from a lot of negativity. Moving has given me so many good things like, economic opportunity, self-awareness, frugality, trust in my own instincts, deeper appreciation for diversity, a minimalist attitude, patience, independence and fearlessness.
On the other hand, there is a limited amount of community connection you get when you’re continuously uprooting yourself. You may even develop an “it’s not worth getting attached,” mentality after moving a number of times. Skidding across the surface this way-- after awhile it can stunt the growth of deep, intimate and life-lasting relationships and commitments. It can also be a way to escape damaged or difficult ones. Which isn’t very brave at all.
“Well, my community is online anyway,” you might say. To which I would suggest you listen to this podcast episode of Waking Up With Sam Harris, where he and writer Johann Hard discuss the history and biology of tribalism, and whether or not digital communities can truly supplement our inherent need for other people. Hard’s response to this was:
“We are meandering into a time where the possibility of intruding on ourselves technologically and pharmacologically is going to become more precise, and more tempting. It’s one thing to regulate your state by diverting yourself to social media, a video game, or some entertainment that further isolates you, but may actually scratch some kind of psychological itch for the time being. It’s another thing to actually establish a real connection to another person...”
Traveling to new places is another example of ways that we can “scratch a psychological itch,” and distract or separate ourselves from discomfort or unhappiness. But, the truth is that distance alone cannot fix or free us. If you look at the full canvas of motivations for moving again and again — if you lift the veil on a recurrent need for a “fresh start,” and examine more closely, you might see fear, rather than bravery. Fear of deeper, vulnerable relationships, the kind that can hurt you and disappoint you, might be somewhere in your packed suitcase.
Take time to reflect on your true motivations before your next big move. Examine your unsual pros and cons, but also other motivations that could be driving you to pack up and roll out. Who are you leaving behind? What weights are you carrying along with you that could be addressed now where you are?
Quiet any voice that tells you that you are alone. Trust that there will be people there to greet you, accept you and support you when you are ready to unpack your belongings and stay for awhile. Join cliche fitness classes and book clubs. Talk to strangers. Other people will open up when you do. The time will come when bravery is no longer in leaving, rolling under the stars, and starting over.
When that time comes, be brave. Try taking root.